In Retail, No One Can Hear You Scream

The company where a friend of mine works was recently Streamlined For Greater Efficiency, which means he was Invited to Exit so that his position could be Folded Into Internal Synergy.

(translation for those who don’t speak Doublespeak: The company’s going broke, so he was laid off after his position was eliminated)

In order to maintain some income during this period, he’s taken on holiday work at a big-box store. He’s less than excited about the development. It got me thinking about a job I had for a while – one of those times in our lives when we look at our careers and think, “Well, this can’t be right…”

Now there’s certainly nothing wrong with working jobs like these; but it’s when you find yourself in a job that you know with every fiber of your being is the wrong place for you that wounds so deeply. For me, the indignity I felt was also fueled by the fact that less than a year earlier I’d been terminally Too Cool For School.

I was still a full-time comedian, working in a couple of theater groups, running a rapidly failing theater show. I was a gen-x bohemian of such incredible pomposity it’s a wonder I didn’t collapse in on myself, black hole-like. Jobs were for chumps. Societal rules were written for the sheeple who couldn’t think for themselves. Anything “normal” people did was pathetic. I hung out at dark bars and talked about edgy things and… you know… blah blah puke.

(I’m exagerrating, of course. The places I hung out at would never offer ketchup.)

I was also miserable and broke, and decided I needed to make a change.

When I abandoned that I was so unused to being outside of my little alt-rock cocoon of bartering that when I had to start paying for my own drinks again, I was floored.

So, I’d decided to try and build something meaningful in my life, and while I was rebuilding, I had to get a job at the nearby Pseudo-Fancy Furniture & Lots Of Stuff That All Smells Like A Robot Pine Tree chain store. I dreaded people I knew coming in.

I’m sure they didn’t care what I was doing. It was my self-judgment projecting on to them.

To be clear, though: the job sucked. I’d worked a lot of jobs from coffee shops and bars to more bizarre ones, including Submarine Tour Guide (which I’ve written about in “My Secret Resume”) but I’d never worked retail, much less in a chain-store, so I wasn’t used to The Way Things Work.

The managerial staff were either unable, or unwilling, to think independently. They literally read from scripts given by corporate when addressing the employees. In day-to-day workings, even when blatant logic suggested a harmless alternative to a directive, they reacted as if you’d said, “What if instead we burned American flags in the window displays?”

This thinking extended to employee meetings where they attempted to “motivate” us by reading from a script, and offer sales competitions where the winner would get, not a bonus, or a raise, but a candy bar. A candy bar.

Lots of things got thrown out because it wasn’t selling or whatever. I thought, “Well, I/someone I know can use it” but when I went to take something was told, “It’s the company’s garbage.” I explained that it’s garbage, and could be put to good use. They said, “It’s the company’s garbage.” I said that, actually, the law says that once something has been placed in the garbage, you no longer own it. They said, “It’s the company’s garbage.”

The head manager applied this “inside the box in another box” thinking to her entire life. She perhaps demonstrated this best through trying to lose weight, but refusing to exercise, eat better, or eat less, but simply through a full-throttle approach to the Atkins Diet. I also found out later she would take home the in-store security tapes and watch them in her off hours to see what employees were doing when she wasn’t there.

But the thing I remember most? The music. They had 1-hour music loops, filled with songs that market research had shown inspired people to shop more, and it played every hour. I’d hear those songs 8 times a day, every day.

I still have a ridiculous, quasi-PTSD response when I hear some of them to this day.

Man, that was awful. This started out with the intention of being a “Hang in there, buddy; it’ll be fine” thing.

Hm.

Well.

Ron, my friend, it will likely suck. But, for one thing you’ve got some great other things going on, including directing a play. Plus, as they say, the only constant is change, and as sure as life leads us in to those situations, it leads us to new places from there.

Share this:

Like this:

Related

About The Byronic Man

Recently voted "The Best Humor Site in America That I, Personally, Write," The Byronic Man is sometimes fiction, but sometimes autobiography. And sometimes cultural criticism. Oh, and occasionally reviews. Okay, it's all those different things, but always humorous. Except on the occasions that it's not. Ah, geez. Look, it's a lot of things, okay? You might like it, is the point.

170 Comments on “In Retail, No One Can Hear You Scream”

Used to work overnight at one of those places…….the bosses were robots. Even when somebody got a chemical in their eye and discovered the eye wash station didn’t work, all the boss said, in a robotic voice, was “The eye wash stations are OSHA approved.”

And there’s no way the manager type people start out that way, is there? I mean, either they are, and the companies have a knack for finding “paralytic-thinking, borderline bully” types, or they transform lumps of clay in to them. I don’t know which is worse.

I wish I could say I didn’t know how Ron feels. It sucks. Hopefully, this will be a seasonal stall in his big plan and he can get back to doing the things he wants to sooner rather than later. In the mean time isn’t he lucky to have a friend like you who can get to the core of how much it sucks.

You’re a good friend to harness the transformative powers of your stick-figure prowess pep-talk-wise.
Huh?
I often worry about employees and the music they have to listen to. One of the best running bits in The 40-Year-Old Virgin is that Michael MacDonald concert DVD looping over and over. Good Lord!

I spent four hard years working the front line at Yankee Candle, and the absolute worst part was the piped-in music. To this day if I hear a few bars of any song by Mannheim Steamroller, I have flashbacks and start to twitch.

My boss also used to drone to me: It’s the company’s garbage. She’d have me throw tons of perfectly good glass candle jars into the dumpster. Hearing the sickening crunch of glass brought tears to my eyes. Why must those greedy corporate assholes take away my chance at making my home smell like sugar cookies? Isn’t it enough they took away every last shred of my dignity by simply being their employee?

I had the same experience with a retailer – the owner insisted the stuff be incinerated. “But, sir, those stuffed animals and notepads could go to a children’s hospital.” “NO! BURN IT!” It was like living in Footloose.

I loved working retail and my son got a job at Best Buy. After only one week of working full time, he made top salesman. Between Danny and I, it must be genetic. Now he’s thinking about staying there for a while instead of going into advertising.
My daughter has always wanted to own a retail store. She was hired and thrown into managing a small store this fall. She hated it! Now she’s rethinking what she wants to do after college. She’s thinking product development. Selling is not for everyone!
I still remember the music we played too. David Bowie takes me right back to The Peacock.

I used to work 1 day a month at Williams Sonoma, mostly for the discounts. But during holiday seaso I was there 1-2x a week. Rough. The worst was the holiday music. I’m forever scarred by Barbra Streisand’s 800 mph Jingle Bells. Even Louis Armstrong singing “Is that you Santa Claus?” brcame intolerable.

Sheeple? You don’t think I’m gonna let that one just slide right by, do you? Oh man, sheeple. Love!

Every once in a while, I’ll be in a store where they will pipe in horrible music, and I’ll mention to the sales person that they must LOATHE having to hear that all the time, and they usually reply, “I don’t even hear it anymore.” According to this post, that is all LIES. Probably what corporate instructs them to say!

Poor Marc Cohn. One of his songs is my hubs’ and my wedding song. Not that one, but still. I kind of love him. I’m sorry he tortures you so. He didn’t mean it.

In my experience, while you’re at work you don’t really notice the music. However, say you walk into another branch and they’ve got the same playlist, well, that’s enough to induce a full-blown anxiety attack or a psychotic breakdown.

My company gave me a book called, “1,001 Ways to Reward Your Employees” and then wouldn’t allow me to use any of the 1,001 ways.

Way # 52: Highlight someone’s efforts by giving them an “award” card and post it in a place where everyone can see it.
Apparently, singling out one person makes other employees feel bad about their lack of awards. If one employee gets an award every employee must get an award.

I’ve had the good fortune never to work in one of those places. I did work once alphabetizing all day. No music though. That would have seriously thrown me off my game, because I had the Alphabet Song playing in my head 8 hours a day. I lied, Couldn’t get rid of it–hummed it on the way to and from work.

I work in one of those places. It’s pretty evil, but it pays well (in Australia, so you can survive comfortably on 20 hours/week). I think of it as my day job to support my art habit/”career” (who am I kidding? You can’t have an art career in Australia. Ok, maybe in Melbourne you could). 🙂 Seriously though, in the back of my mind, this job is just a stop-gap until something else comes along. A currently 4-year-long stop-gap…

I’m printing out your Banality Sauce cartoon to hang on my wall. On second thought, I’ll print it banner size. Screw that, I’m taking the JPEG down to Staples and having it printed on prepasted wallpaper that will envelop all the walls in my office.

Starbucks… Starbucks… hm… oh, wait, isn’t that that quaint little coffee shop chain? The one named after a secondary character in Moby Dick? I think I saw one of those once. Charming little places, lots of character. I bet that was a fountain of individuality.

My very first job was at a Hallmark. It smelled like old people, and I would listen to a constant stream of easy listening music for 6-8 hours at a time. To this day, when I hear “Broken Wings” by Mister Mister I cringe a little.

Yes, oh yes. Retail will suck the soul out of you. I managed a bookstore for several years and the shenanigans of upper management made me insane (ha!). I got in trouble every time I tried to be human (like let my assistant manager go to her class reunion. Really?) I was told to ‘get rid of’ another asst because he wasn’t ‘management material.’ A sweet, kind, intelligent man who took his time with tasks because he want to get it right. Uh huh. No humanity allowed in management. I quit on the cusp of being fired–a week before Christmas. Like a boss!

I think I sadly know that manager, because dear lord there can’t be 2 roaming the earth. After I had my kiddies I took a job at a very upscale retail outlet store. My corneas had to be severed after witnessing a woman pooping in a wicker waste basket in the women’s dressing room (honest to god). I realized this was not the first time this happened since there was a pooper scooper on hand. My head was swirling with about a bizillion questions for this woman, but I was frozen in my position.
All the best to your friend as we enter the holiday shopping season.

David Sedaris took a temporary retail holiday job at Macy’s and turned it into a juggernaut. You never know where opportunity lies. Or is that too new-agey? Probably. Actually…now that I think about it…I worked in a breadcrumb factory once. Sometimes, you walk through a door and just KNOW that opportunity will not appear.

I dated a girl who grew up in Memphis who, literally, teared-up when she heard that song. Needless to say, it didn’t last.

That’d be nice – if there could be some kind of message when you take terrible jobs telling you if it will pay off in some way, and how much. “You’ll meet your spouse here” or “You’ll get inspiration to write a hit play” or “You’ll achieve inner peace by letting go of ego” or whatever.

Well, where’s the fun in that? How else would I have found out what crushing failure feels like if terrible jobs came with warning stickers? Thanks to a long line of dead-end job hopping, I’m a more well-rounded individual.

My husband got laid off from a fairly good job about six months ago and we are both working part time. I had to take a second (retail) job. Watching the training videos…I missed half of the instruction because all this horrible subtext was screaming at me. On top of that, retail customers can be the WORST. Best of luck to your friend! I hope everything works out for him and he can get out of Retail Hell sooner rather than later with his soul intact.

First of all, I will buy anything when Marc Cohen is singing about Memphis so that market research is not inaccurate….

Second of all, I think this is my favorite post you have ever written because I was all “Hahaha” and “Boy have I been there” and “This too shall pass” and “Why can’t I be as clever at the Byronic Man?”

I laughed so hard when I read this, especially during the cartoons about musical PTSD. This is definitely something I unfortunately relate to. My PTSD includes some contemporary soft rock, and a lot of John Philip Sousa marching music, oddly enough. The worst is working customer service or retail when you have an advanced degree. Nobody is “too good” for any type of work, but everyone is “too good” to be treated like a minion or an idiot all the time by robotic managers and angry customers.

Great freaking post, as always. Your music reference reminded me of my Christmas season at Sporttime Fashions when I was 15. Think: kind of giant space at the end of a low-rent strip mall that sells cheaply made women’s clothing, mostly cheap career wear. The sound system was an 8-track machine, and even though I’m old, 8-tracks are older and were already obsolete. There was one Christmas CD. One. The Carpenter’s Christmas album. I can’t…. I can’t…. DAMMIT, I JUST EARWORMED MYSELF!

My blood still runs cold when I hear “My blood runs cold! My memory has just been sold! My angel is a centerfold! (Angel iiis a centerfold…)” Those tapes were the worst part of retail. Besides standing up for eight hours, straightening things.

Well, I was going to leave a comment about how I love your post and congratulate you on being Freshly Pressed (again) – but then I read your note on leaving comments. I’m so glad I could help an angel get his or her wings today! Anyway, congratulations! And I look forward to reading more of your posts.

Hysterical, I work a part time job, or part time hell, in exactly such a place. Unfortunately my full time job echoes the exact same management ideologies. This past Saturday someone returned a cooking set, it was used, so of course we will throw the perfectly good pots and pans out…retail is awful, and the holidays bring out the worst in people. Thanks for the laughter…

First job ever was Blockbuster. Which apparently took 25 years longer than I did to figure out it was time to leave.

Another employment highlight was receptionist at a computer device manufacturer where the boss rounded us up regularly in the break room and screamed varying renditions of his favorite motivational speech: “I can’t live off of what you people make me!”

At my final position in the work world before going solo (about two seconds before insanity, by my reckoning), I was seriously injured on the job at a landscaping company who’s equipment was so unsafe, you had to start a few of the vehicles with screwdrivers. The company’s response was to fire me ASAP and then get right to work attempting to deny me Worker’s Compensation.

Honorable Mention: The cactus greenhouse gig where the boss grew, shall we say, OTHER plants in certain off-limits areas, but made it very clear he would throw innocent parties under the bus if it ever came to light.

I survived 2.5 years selling PT for The North Face to the hedge fund crowd from Greenwich who made sure to remind every one of our 15-member staff that we could not possibly (as every one of us had) have attended or graduated from college. Their disdain was pretty toxic.

I actually gave two weeks’ notice when I quit (Dec. 18 2009) and when a fat, nasty customer started screaming at me (again) I just went and hid in the stockroom. It seemed like a fair response.

I actually liked our managers, without which I could never have lasted that long.

Amazed at the endless list of euphemisms for for being “punted”. I once got this from management of a radio station : “Mike, we are starting a new format on Monday. The cards were thrown up in the air and when they came down your name wasn’t on them”

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!! *gives round of applause* This is exactly how I felt working retail!!! Only thing was that I would dance or sing to the songs… and the loop was at least a little longer. I did get caught a few times, but who cares? You gotta have fun with it somewhere!

When I worked for a chain, I was advised if someone came within a meter of the stand I was to say ‘ hi how you going.’ How far do I take this, was what my mind was saying, do I get a tape measure out and work out from all angles of the stall what a meter was and would I chase someone if they came within the radius but I missed them…

The music loop alone would drive me batty. Did you have nightmares? Problems sleeping? I’ve worked at a lot of places I’ve put out of my memory. Hey, congrats on being Freshly Pressed! I love the stickman sketches! Well done!

And here I was wondering why the guy at the christmas market yesterday working on the children’s roundabout was looking soo sourly … I think I would have looked like him within the first loop of the songs he was hearing all afternoon long.

It is strange that employers haven’t factored the impact of the music on employees, and the impact of employees on customers. I think it was Macy’s some years ago, whose sales were flagging, and they changed their strategy from focusing on customers, to focusing on making employees happy, and suddenly their sales shot up.

That was entertaining! Tried to get over the this-is-starting-to-sound-more-and-more-like-my-life-but-if-I-keep-focused-on-the-humour-my-untouched-framed-diploma-on-the-wall-won’t-look-so-bad feeling. Yeah, didn’t work.

But hey, nothing lasts forever. Good luck to your friend and tell him it’s just a baby hiccup in his life. He’ll survive. Or at least I hope.

I feel your pain. After my 1,000th “career” (and country) change, I started working in an office. I wasn’t prepared….The office being in a university I was expecting an open-minded and nurturing environment. Instead I found hell.

I’m stuck in one of those places at the moment due to some unfortunate circumstances and OMFG!! The claims department is RIFE with stuff that could be donated to shelters for a tax write off but nope, into the compacter it goes!! And even perfume testers – THE FUCKING TESTERS!!! – cannot be taken once the display is done!! IT’S SOMETHING THAT WE CANNOT SELL BUT IT’S STILL HAS TO GO TO CLAIMS!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, my word. I love “Walking in Memphis,” so seeing that particular song invoked here had me giggling.

For me, it’s one Destiny’s Child disc. I can’t tell you the name of a single song off the disc. I couldn’t spontaneously recite a lyric. But when one of those songs comes on . . . when it does . . . I am catapulted back to my 1L tween clothing shop days, and want to immediately depart wherever I’m at!

Of all the jobs I’ve worked, retail is one of the worst. Even the “best” retail job would still be horrible compared to another industry. There’s just something about it that makes me want to shout: “NOBODY CARES ABOUT SHOES!” I mean, having to make conversation with customers in the hopes they’ll buy something which ultimately benefits the company and not the employee? Nah, thanks. I’d rather be on the other side!

My circle of retail hell was Things Remembered. They sold the type of gifts that mostly get bought the day before Christmas or wedding rehearsal dinners. They were all cheaply made but they were ENGRAVED. I got fired for engraving the wrong names on the wrong gifts – turns out the guy buying them gifts wanted his wife, Sarah, to get Zippo lighter with the “you light up my life” message, while Jessie, the lover, was supposed to get the ankle bracelet.

I can’t stand the music they play in stores these days. I remember working in a restaurant that only played 50’s tunes. Imagine what belting out those songs randomly can do to the reputation of a 16 year old kid. Anyway, if anyone took the time to read this, I am new on word press and would appreciate any help in finding direction on how to use this awesomeness to its full functionality.

Reblogged this on Down The Rabbit-Hole. and commented:
Being back home always gets me thinking how truly grateful I am to have escaped what I had, two years ago, assumed to be my fate. Couldn’t have said it better if I’d tried…

I worked in a big box store for a while and we would have these daily “Ra Ra Ra” meetings. One day, the manager said “There is no “I” in “team”!” and I kindly pointed out that “There’s an “M” and an “E”.”. Needless to say, that wasn’t appreciated.

I always wonder what the expected reaction is to mindless, over-used platitudes like “there’s no I in TEAM” is. Delighted laughter and a surge of motivation? A gasp at this display of wit that the person has somehow never heard before?

Yep, that pretty much sums up retail. Best day in my retail job? Working Christmas Eve by myself because management refused to send someone over from another store that was located about fifteen minutes away to cover a shift that my coworker decided not to show up to. Ah, Christmas memories.

I flipping LOVE the way you write and that I can 1000% (no, that’s not a typo) relate to everything you say… sardonic “soul-mates” (as I type this from the company computer at which I am supposed to be doing menial things like office-work)?

Oh man can I relate to this, you have to seriously consider what effect the torture is having on your mind when you go to the staff toilet (outside of the shop) and you can still hear the song that was playing when you walked out only there are no speakers in the toilet. That shit is creepy.